


saigner

by silena



Series: la douleur exquise [1]
Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: F/M, Not Canon Compliant, but you saw that in the warning, i curse a bit too, kind of (???) a happy ending, like it's pretty sad, not really - Freeform, not really that one either tho, really sad, someone dies at the end, sorry - Freeform, spoilers for glass sword so dont read if you havent read it, yey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6038845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silena/pseuds/silena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which mare slowly loses herself while cal tries to get her back. | "they all deal with the grief in different ways." / "if it's a rescue mission, she doesn't care. not anymore."</p>
            </blockquote>





	saigner

**Author's Note:**

> major spoilers for "glass sword." please do not read if you haven't read it yet, though i really don't have a way to stop you.
> 
> title is french for "bleed" / "la douleur exquise" means exquisite pain, wanting someone you can never have / companion piece is "guérison" meaning healing
> 
> songs to listen to  
> "the end of all things" by panic! at the disco  
> "too good" by troye sivan  
> "the kids aren't alright" by fall out boy

Mare can’t decide what’s worse: being Maven’s lapdog, or being near Maven.

The boy that she ~~loves~~ loved still glimmers through the cracks of his all-too impenetrable facade of lies and half-cocked smirks. Sometimes it will shine through a certain gentleness in his touch, and sometimes she’ll see it in a quick glimmer of the eye.

But it is never there for long enough and the heartless ruler quickly stomps down any semblance of romanticism that would have blossomed. Because, if he asked nicely enough, she might even kiss him back. And the fact that she’s that weak _sickens_ her.

She is back in silk dresses and shining jewels, though this time as Mare Barrow instead of Mareena Titanos. Evangeline doesn’t dare do anything to her, neither does anyone else, for fear of angering the king. But that doesn’t stop the whispered disparagement and the knife-tipped glares that are thrown her way.

The collar at her neck is covered in diamonds and made of silver instead of gold, a show of dominance in front of the ones that she once thought were immortal. They aren’t. But neither is she, and living seems so tiring now. She just wants to _rest_.

She hits herself mentally. **_Shade_ ** _wouldn’t rest_ , she thinks. _Cal wouldn’t either. Farley sure as hell wouldn’t, and neither would Kilorn._

“What are you thinking of, little pet?”

The voice sounds exactly like her friend’s, but Mare has to remind herself that her friend never really existed.

A hand grabs her wrist tightly with surprising swiftness and burns her slightly. “ _Answer me_.”

She has half a mind to tell him that she’s planning his death; a gruesome one that will not end quickly. It will be painful and torturous. And it will be oh-so _worth it_.

When the heat on her arm is scalding, she grits out a “nothing,” hoping it will be enough to make him leave her alone.

But, of course, he’s persistent. “You know I don’t like liars.”

“ _But you have no problem being one yourself, Maven Calore_ ,” she spits before thinking.

At the sound of his father’s last name, his face twists into a terrible facsimile and slaps her across her face, probably hard enough to leave a red handprint on her cheek. _Good. Remind him of the color of my blood._

“You are _nothing_ without me, _Mare Barrow_ ,” he snarls. “You’d be dead if it weren’t for me. Remember that.”

 _Well that’s a shame_ , she thinks. _I’d rather be dead than here._

• • •

Cal has a hard time sleeping without her.

He should hate her, for killing those silvers who were _begging_ for mercy. He really should. But he should also hate his brother.

His side, where she’d usually be, is strangely cold and empty without something taking the space. Instead of wasting time moping without her, he’s working towards something useful. Getting her back.

They all deal with the grief in different ways.

Kilorn fishes on Tuck, throwing himself into work to avoid thinking about Mare, the girl who was torn away from him by reds and silvers alike, only to be passed on to the worst monster in the world. Bree and Tramy stay far away from each other and from him. All they see is Tiberias Calore VII, former prince of Norta and an accomplice to Maven’s crimes. He can’t say he blames them.

One dark, lonely night on Tuck, he finds himself packing. He’s leaving; to where, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t have to. He has one thing in mind and that’s one thing only: Mare Barrow.

In a suit similar to the one he wore as he flew the Blackrun, he throws a backpack of necessities over his shoulder and marches away from the camp.

“Leaving so soon?”

He stops, but he knows that voice. _Farley_.

“You didn’t think you were going to go after her without us, did you?” _Kilorn._

Damn. Was he that obvious?

Kilorn laughs, though the irony at laughing at a moment like this isn’t lost on Cal, and walks towards him. “No, we just know what you’re like after being near you for so long. And before you start wondering if I’m a mind reader, you just said it out loud.”

Cal flushes and a paleness rushes over his face.

Farley emerges from her spot in the shadows, a similar backpack around her shoulders. “It’s just us three.” There is nothing questioning in her tone. She is not asking to join him, she is telling him.

“Good.”

• • •

She feels as if she is going insane.

Words swim in and out of her head like dangerous fish, waiting to prey on the first sign of weakness. But she is already oh-so tired and she wants to sleep.

Mare is crowned with a thin tiara of silver wiring and diamond roses. Her face is once again painted, this time to accentuate the features that distinctly mark her as a red. Her face is dusted with a bronzer and no maquillage dares conceal her sunspots. Bright scarlet lipstick stains her lips and a gold powder dusts her eyelids. Her dress is simple but its sanguine fabric is a stark contrast to the pale blues, lavenders, and whites of silver court.

And, as always, the collar is around her throat, staying her, choking her, _owning_ her. She hates it.

She sits still and does not speak unless spoken to. She is the epitome of the silver’s ideals for feminine charm and politeness. Lady Blonos would be proud. If she were still alive.

The party around her is lavish and ostentatious and Mare has to dig her fingernails into her palm to avoid grabbing something, though she has nothing to want in the material sense. In the matters of the heart, however, she wants more than Maven could ever give her.

• • •

Nearly a week later and they are finally on Nortan soil. They are still so far away from the King State and Archeon. They are still so far away from _Mare_.

Kilorn, surprisingly, isn’t the pretentious asshole he used to be and instead is just as determined to get Mare as Cal is. Farley, however, is another story.

When Kilorn had gone to find some fish for dinner, he asks her. “Why did you come along?”

Farley’s face is reserved and placid, though he knows that some inner turmoil rages around inside of her each day. It’s how he feels right now and, if Mare were dead, he’d surely go mad.

“What do you mean?” she asks, dodging the question quite obviously.

Cal gives her a look, a trait he picked up from the Red Queen herself. “You know _exactly_ what I mean.”

She sighs and drops down on a log, giving up quite quickly for Diana Farley. Maybe she just wants someone who will listen, like Shade must’ve done for her. Cal wasn’t that type of person, but he sure as hell could try.

“She’s my friend too, you know,” Farley says, eyes roaming the forest, ever-watchful even in grief. “She’s my friend and could’ve been my sister-in-law. Because Shade asked me to marry him and I said yes and we were going to get married as soon as we could. But now he’s dead and she’s the closest thing I have to family left.”

Tears brim her eyes and she looks as broken as Cal feels.

Roughly clearing the tears away with a palm, she continues. “Do you know what the last thing he said to me was? ‘If I can’t, keep Mare safe. I love you.’”

Something odd happened that night, and Cal realized that he wasn’t the only one who needed Mare Barrow for stability.

• • •

He is kissing her neck and his lips feel foreign, though this has been a common occurrence for the past few weeks. Or how ever long she’s been here.

As he moves towards her mouth, his breath mixes with hers and she tastes cinnamon. His kiss is nothing like Cal’s, which is sometimes kind and soft, like a slow burn, and other times hard and passionate, a deadly conflagration that will tear at everything in its path.

Maven’s is filled with nothing but the desire to _own_ , to _possess_ , to _dominate_. It stifles her completely.

He used to get angry at her for not responding. He would burn her, leaving terrible blisters all across her arms, only to have a healer take care of her the next day. He wouldn’t dare leave a scar on her body, but he’s definitely left a scar on her mind.

• • •

They’re here. After nearly a month, they’re so close to Mare. _He’s_ so close to Mare.

But Maven’s done his fair share of ruining the girl, if the propaganda that airs every night has anything to say about it. Cal used to watch them on other silver’s screens when he could and the lights behind Mare’s eyes were fading fast. That was nearly a week ago. What now?

Kilorn steps up beside him. “We’re going in about an hour, Cal. You sure you’re alright?”

He nods and appreciates the sentiment. Kilorn is not the bastard he once was.

Kilorn smiles ruefully and moves to help Farley finish getting ready. This is _their_ fight, after all, and Maven has personally taken something from each of them.

• • •

 _There is a storm coming_ , she thinks. _And it must be a large one in order for me to sense it in this state._

She feels it in her bones, rattling her and making her shiver. Maven mistakes it for a chill and takes his blood red cloak off, setting it on her shoulders.

A loud clash sounds from the left, making everyone turn. Except for Mare. If it’s a rescue mission, she doesn’t care. Not anymore. Her eyes stay on the diamondglass window on the clouds that loom on the horizon, dark grey shading with purple. It almost looks like the lightning that danced on her fingertips so long ago.

People collapse around her and someone’s fingers grasp the scarlet cloak around her, pulling it down and letting it pool around her the base of her gown. Strong, calloused hands turn her around and lift her chin. Eyes run over her face and gentle arms pull her into a hug.

Then, the world turns dark and she collapses.

• • •

 _Maven is dead_ , he thinks. _But he still haunts me_.

And it’s clear that Maven’s still with Mare in the way she flinches at foreign contact that isn’t his, even her family’s or Farley’s or Kilorn. Or the way she’ll space out in the middle of conversation. Or the way she can’t ever wear a necklace again. Or the way that she’ll wake up screaming in the middle of the night if he isn’t there. Or the way that she forgets that she even has her lightning to protect herself.

And he’s not very subtle about the horror’s he’s experienced either. He can’t stop keeping a spark of flame in his hand and can’t stand to have Mare out of his eyesight. He can’t close his eyes without seeing his brother’s eyes burning back and glaring silent accusations at him. He laughs with fear of the future and keeps those he trusts near him.

Because while Maven might have been Cal’s brother, he was still Elara’s son.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope you've enjoyed. please leave a comment or a kudos, and i'll see you next time! :)
> 
> p.s. sorry not sorry for the psychotic maven.
> 
> stats  
> words: 1907  
> first upload: 16 february 2016


End file.
